


High Noon

by missdibley



Series: Oh My Oakley [4]
Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom, Unrelated (2007)
Genre: 420, Anal Play, F/M, Smut, Summer Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-25 01:47:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3792037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missdibley/pseuds/missdibley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oakley. Helen. A joint. A doorbell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My Doorbell

**Author's Note:**

> In case you need something to listen to while you read this: <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IlcMRq3gb1s>.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My eyes flew open, but I said nothing.
> 
> Oakley stroked the spot gently, then began to press on it more insistently.
> 
> Now this, I thought, is getting interesting.

"You're awake."

I opened my eyes at the sound of Oakley's voice. I'd taken my contacts out at some point in the night, so I could see nothing but shadows and light, a blurry figure near the foot of the bed. I was in bed alone, naked and a little cold. Feeling around my nightstand, I found my glasses and shoved them onto my face.

Oakley sat, knees bent and pressed into his chest, wearing shorts and smoking a cigarette out of the small bay window that was the only redeeming feature of my drafty Oxford bedroom. Because the window was small and faced onto the quad, the room didn't get a lot of light.

It didn't need it, I thought, not really. Just a little streak to shine through his hair, which fell in curls all around his sweet face.

His sweet face which, of course, was leering at me.

Oakley slid out of the window and in one smooth move he had removed his shorts and was naked in my bed. He lay on top of me, head between my breasts. His cheek felt soft against me. I brought a hand up to stroke his jaw gently.

"That feels good." Oakley gave a little hum of contentment.

"Yeah," I murmured. "Imagine how much better it would feel if you could grow a proper beard."

"Little bitch!" Oakley cursed me good naturedly, grabbing my hand and nipping at my fingers with his teeth.

I brought my hands up to cover my mouth as I guffawed.

"Sorry, baby, but it's just so soft." I tried to console him.

"No it isn't." I could hear the pout in Oakley's voice.

"But it feels so good when it's tickling me here..." I took one of his hands and used it to rub my breasts, rubbing his thumb over my nipples just as I liked it.

"And here." I brought his hand up to my own cheek, then pressed my lips into his palm.

"But here. Most importantly, it feels amazing here." I slid his hand down between us, rubbing it slowly against my inner thigh.

Oakley shook my hand off, caressing the crook between my cunt and my thigh slowly.

I squeezed my eyes shut, anticipating that he would begin to massage my clit with this thumb. Or, finding that I was totally wet for him, slip a finger into my cunt before hooking it so he could press on my G-spot.

I bit my lip, felt my forehead tense when, instead, he slid his hand over my hip, squeezing it hard, before bringing it to rest on my ass.

"Oak..." I breathed. "That was nice."

He brought his hand lower down on the cheek, groping it before working a finger to a spot right next to my anus.

My eyes flew open, but I said nothing.

Oakley stroked the spot gently, then began to press on it more insistently.

Now this, I thought, is getting interesting.

I closed my eyes, focusing on keeping my breathing regular and deep, matching it to the pressure Oakley applied.

The way he used one finger to press, and continue pressing, made me think of that little sensitive patch as a doorbell. That pressing it would eventually gain him entry to my backdoor. My backdoor being my asshole.

I had to laugh. I couldn't help it.

Oakley stopped.

"Is something wrong?"

"No," I whimpered. "You can, you can keep... hic.. I mean. What?" I kept my eyes on the ceiling, afraid of what would happen if I looked Oakley in the eye.

"It's just, I was thinking. It's like, you're ringing my doorbell. Because you want to get in. My backdoor. You want me to let you into my ass." I paused, tried to compose myself.

"And you're trying to get in my backdoor! Ding! Ding dong! Dick dong! Bwahahahahaha!" I writhed, laughing and howling instead of moaning under sweet Oakley's ministrations.

Oakley pushed himself off the bed and stalked to the cold water sink near the window, scrubbing his hands with soap and water before drying himself with a Union Jack tea towel.

"If you're going to act like a brat, I'll be on my way then." Oakley looked serious, or he would have if he wasn't naked and sporting a semi in the middle of my bedroom.

"Oak," I murmured, wanting to appear contrite. I knelt on the bed in front of him, holding my arms out so I could pull him to me. "I'm sorry."

"What exactly are you sorry for?" Oakley rested his chin on top of my head, waiting for my reply.

"Um..." What  _was_ I sorry for? Making fun of his scraggly non-beard? Breaking up what could have been a hot moment with my incessant silliness.

SMACK!

I guess I must have took too long because Oakley brought his hand down and slapped me hard on my left ass cheek.

"You little bitch. You're not sorry at all." Oakley hissed.

I moaned into his chest, grinding my breasts into his body, delighting in the almost painful sensation of my rock hard nipples scraping his pecs.

"I suppose not." I grasped him tighter. "Let me make it up to you."

Oakley grabbed my chin, tilting it up so he could look me in the face.

"Now?"

"No. Not now. Meet me here after breakfast."

"Where am I going?"

"Back to your room at St. Peter's. Shower, change, meet in front of the Pembroke gate." I pulled his head down so I could kiss him.

"And bring a snack."


	2. The Meadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Oakley?"
> 
> I was whispering.
> 
> I didn't want the trees to hear me.

"You know, I'm gonna miss this." I called out to Oakley over my shoulder as I walked through Christ Church Meadow, squinting and looking towards the far end of the field.

"What, getting heatstroke on the most humid day of the year and dying in the middle of this dried out brush pretending to be a lawn?" Oakley was still pouting from before but at least he was here. He had appeared at Pembroke right after breakfast ended, just as I asked. Freshly showered and, I noticed gleefully, clean shaven.

He stumbled over a pebble.

"Watch out, Oak!" I sang. "There are rocks afoot. Get it?"

Oakley ignored my joke.

"What, I don't even get a smile?" I stopped and turned, standing in Oakley's way so he had to look at me from behind his aviators.

"What's the point? You always laugh at your own jokes anyway." He smirked.

The dick.

"Okay, ow! Jerk. But if I didn't laugh at my own jokes, who would?"

"Do you  _really_ want me to answer that, love?" Oakley sneered, but then stopped when he saw my face.

I could feel myself falter, my face tensing with uncertainty. I didn't want to cry.

"Don't," Oakley said before gathering me into my arms.

"No, it's okay." I sniffed. "That wasn't even that bad, as far as our usual bullshitting goes."

"I'm sorry," Oakley whispered into the top of my head.

"No, I'm sorry. I've been, I don't know. Just weird."

"How many days do we have left?"

"Two," I sighed.

"We have two."

* * *

The copse was dim, not as cool as I would have liked, but far enough from the Isis that there were no mosquitoes to bother us. I unfolded the blanket I brought, and set up the food we'd brought in the center. Apples and bacon I'd stolen from breakfast, a bag of crisps and sandwiches from Pret A Manger, and two cans of cider from Oakley.

"I do love picnics." Oakley lay next to me, arms folded under his head. "Kind of perfect, even with the heat. We seem to be alone."

"Good. I was hoping for that." I reached into my bra and produced a joint and lighter, holding them over Oakley's face so he could see.

He popped up, rubbing his palms gleefully.

"See?" I crowed. "Said I'd make it up to you, didn't I?"

"Helen, this is brilliant. Thank you." Oakley leaned over, grabbed me by the nape of my neck and kissed me. Hard and deep, like he would never let go.

I broke the kiss, pressing the joint and lighter into his hand with a squeeze.

"Okay, jerk, light it up." I smiled. "Let's have a little fun."

"Where'd you even find this anyway?" Oakley lit the joint, taking a nice long tug before handing it to me.

"Elena."

"What?" Oakley looked scandalized. "What is the admin for our program doing with weed?"

"Elena may be the admin for our program but she is also a grad student pursuing a degree in theatrical fencing." I inhaled, held my breath, then exhaled. I kept the joint in my fingers, sort of conducting the smoke that hung over us in the woods. "If she's gonna head to France to do further studies in clowning and miming, she needs money. Which she doesn't have. The program barely pays her a stipend above her room and board."

"So they pay her with weed?"

"Sorta. This is the weed they confiscated from Madeline before they busted her ass home last night."

"They sent her home for this?" Oakley had the joint now, and he held it up to examine it. "There were only three days left!"

"Yeah," I giggled. "But it's in the rules. You get busted with drugs or alcohol, and you're on the next plane back to the States. No matter when. I heard all about it this morning. That's when I asked Elena about the pot. She'd already told the director the weed was lost, so I got it. And here we are."

"Here we are." Oakley repeated, staring at me. "Helen, you're fucking crazy."

"I know," I sighed, then fell back onto the blanket. "Isn't it great?"

* * *

"Oakley?"

I was whispering.

I didn't want the trees to hear me.

"Helen?"

Oakley lay, shirtless, as ever, on the blanket next to me where I sat cross-legged. He tried but failed to keep an empty cider can balanced on his forehead.

"Can I tell you something?" I leaned forward and brushed potato chip crumbs off my face so he would take me seriously.

"Of course." Oakley popped up, ignoring the can as it bounced into his lap.

"I'm going to miss you."

Oakley nodded slowly.

"You know what else is going to miss you?"

Oakley's eyes grew wide.

"No. What?"

"My pussy." I flipped up the hem of my dress to show Oakley my panties. I gasped when the hot, still air clashed with the wetness between my legs.

"She's crying!" I whimpered.

Oakley shook his head.

"We can't have that." Oakley shook his head, then carefully laid me back on the blanket. He rubbed my thighs slowly. I could hear him muttering.

"What are you saying?" I hissed. "Speak up! She can't hear you!" I pointed to my cunt.

"I have to be quiet." He frowned. "I don't want the trees to hear me."

"OKAY." I flopped back down.

Oakley stuck his head under my dress. I could feel his breath on me, tickling my thighs and my sex. It felt so familiar. I wanted to reach down and start running my fingers through his hair to encourage him, but my arms felt rubbery and loose so I just let them flop at my sides.

I felt him pull my panties to the side, then press his face into me so he could lap at my cunt. My cunt which had been wet for Oakley all summer. I had been waiting, and I hadn't even known.

I'd ruled him out, ruled him out for being too good-looking and too smug and too rich and too White and too tall and too perfect for some pudding like me. But here we were.

"Roll over, babe." Oakley's voice was soft in my ear. I obeyed, rolling onto my side and tucking my knees up close to my chest. I felt Oakley pull his shorts down, felt him open my legs slightly, giving himself purchase as he slid his cock into my pussy from behind. I sighed as I felt him, every vein and curve of velvety soft prick, enter and fill me like nobody ever had.

"Oakley."

"Yeah, love?" Oakley started planting tiny kisses on the back of my neck, sweeping my hair to the side.

"I trust you."

"Thank you."

Oakley began pumping into me, slowly and steadily. He slid a hand down to my clit, rubbing it with the heel of his hand before employing his fingers to tweak it and tease it out of its hood. I moaned as he traced my labia with his fingers, gathering nectar that he sucked off the tips, and loudly at that.

He was about to repeat this gesture when I grabbed his hand at the wrist, then slowly (because the angle was so awkward) slid it between us, down into the cleft of my ass.

"Are you sure?" Oakley sounded reverent, mindful.

I turned around to kiss him, sucking his tongue into my mouth briefly before releasing it with a pop.

"Fuck. Yeah." I closed my eyes and let my head drop.

Oakley wiggled his finger down, closer, deeper. I felt the pressure, that lovely ache, and then a burn as I felt him push into me.

I stiffened, shuddered as I moaned from this tiny pain.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"Fuck. No." I groaned, then pressed my ass back against him. He bucked his hips, hard, into me and I nearly came on the spot.

Continuing to fuck my cunt with his cock, Oakley gently worked his finger, centimeter by centimeter, into my ass. I'd never done this before, not even on my own.

And I cursed myself because it felt fantastic. It was great. It was weirdly focused and intense in a way that rubbing my clit never felt.

Maybe it was the pot and the heat and the food and the boy and the outside. Or maybe it really was this little thing, this thing that people make a big deal about. It was bliss and it was real.

Oakley's finger was still, not moving inside of me, but I felt it just the same. Even more so as he worked his cock into my cunt harder and faster. I clenched, squeezing my hot, slick walls around him, moaning loudly so he and whoever else was around, like I gave a shit if anybody was, could hear how much I wanted this.

"Helen ohmygod babe I don't think I can I can hold on."

I could hear the strain in Oakley's voice.

"Just... just. I'm almost there. Keep fucking me please, Oakley. Don't stop. Never."

I pressed my thighs together, creating a seal so that while Oakley could thrust harder and deeper into me, he couldn't withdraw completely. His finger wasn't doing much in my ass but twitch just a little. Which was all I could stand as I just about lost my mind from being filled and played like an instrument.

"Oooooooooooohhhhhhhh." I cried, finally crashing as Oakley's dick filled me and fucked me. I felt powerless but satisfied, strange and beautiful all at once.

And then I felt pain when Oakley bit my shoulder. He shuddered to his own climax, finally withdrawing his finger from my ass so he could use that hand to grip my hip, nearly crushing it as he jerked and spilled inside of me. I brought my hand down on top of my mound, delighting in the sensation of his cock as it thrust, in and out, and finally fell out completely, leaking on my legs, marking me.

Oakley threw his leg over me, pulling me close so we could spoon and help each other come down.

"Helen, sweet. Are you...?" Oakley whispered into my ear tenderly.

"Oh, Oakley." I could feel myself starting to cry. "That was amazing. Thank you."

"Likewise." He pressed a kiss into my back, then began to suck on the spot.

"I will never forget this. Or you." I sniffled.

Oakley pulled my shoulder back, laying me down on my back again. He rested his head on my breast, looked at me with eyes that were still big and blue but now a little sad.

"You better not." He sniffed a little. "I don't think I could. Not even if I tried."

 

 


End file.
